


Slow hands -section 1, PG13

by wanderingsmith



Series: Slow hands [1]
Category: Bones
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-01
Updated: 2006-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-08 09:37:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingsmith/pseuds/wanderingsmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who's playing that music? And who's going to tango....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me for this.
> 
> An: just a scene I had stuck in my head and decided to try to put down
> 
> The series is essentially one story, but you can skip the NC17 chapters without any harm, so I thought the 'series' feature allowed the reader the flexibility

As Booth walked into the Jeffersonian, he could hear music, loud volume, muffled by walls, the low sexy beat evocative of a hot crowded dance floor.

He grinned and wondered who he'd get to tease for being in the mood as he followed the sound deeper into the building. He'd half expected to end up in Angela's domain and, as the song changed, was slightly shocked to realize the music was coming from Temperance's office instead.

“ Darlin' don't say a word, cause I already heard  
What your body's sayin' to mine“

Temperance closed her eyes and listened to the words as the beat behind the music snaked through her, hips swaying with every pulse.

“ I want a man with a slow hand”

Her hands pretend-smoothed down her ribs to her thighs as her whole body swayed to the hastening rhythm.

After several weeks of too much FBI stress and too little time for her own work, she'd decided to try an old college trick to relax; sexy music and mental permission to think whatever thoughts chose to come. And if this time she'd known very well where her thoughts would go.. well, who was to know.

She knew there was an uncharacteristically large smile on her face as she imagined dancing like this with Booth, his oh so familiar bedroom eyes fixed on her and promising to take her over the moon.

“ On shadowed ground, with no one around  
And a blanket of stars in our eyes  
We are drifting free, like two lost leaves  
On the crazy wind of the night”

Lost in the music, amused at her own thoughts, she opened her eyes and saw Booth standing in the doorway, eyes wide, breathing through lips lightly parted on a faint grin.

“ Darlin', don't say a word, 'cause I already heard  
What your body's sayin' to mine”

He saw her eyes widen slightly as her body missed a few beats; but then her smile turned into an outright come-hither grin and she went back to dancing. His breath hitched for a moment at the blatant way her half closed eyes undressed him as her lips followed the lyrics, though the stereo was too loud for him to hear her voice.

“ 'Cause I got a man with a slow hand  
I got a lover with an easy touch  
I found somebody who will spend some time  
Not come and go in a heated rush  
I found somebody who will understand  
When it comes to love, I want a slow hand”

There was a very faint voice at the back of his mind, reminding him that she could kick his butt if he tried something she didn't want. But the temptation of her sweetly moving body and the sexy beat pounding the room were far louder as he stepped up to her back.

Temperance let her eyes close as she felt his arms come around her, his chest come to rest surrounding her shoulder blades. She raised her hands behind her head to his neck as he joined her, swaying to the music, their hips pressed and his lips tickling her ear.

“ If I want it all night  
Please say it's alright  
It's not a fast move  
But a slow groove  
On my mind”

The husky tone in his soft whisper, the warm breath tracing her cheek, all left her shivering and unconsciously resting more of her weight on him. She didn't want to think, didn't want to remember her inability to connect with anyone, let alone men. If this sweet, mutual seduction was wrong, was a mistake, she would deal with it in the morning light.

For now, even as the song ended, his head turned that little bit, his lips laying a deliberate kiss to her ear as another song started, and all she felt was the warmth of his heavy body, the safety of his wide shoulders supporting her. And the growing arousal, hers and his; his hands now flat against her belly holding her tight against him.


	2. Chapter 2

The morning before

 

Bones sighed as she sat down at her desk. 'A full night's sleep should have more effect than this!' She'd slept 8 hours straight, yet she'd still had to drag herself out of bed this morning. And she could still feel remnants of cotton clouding her thoughts! Damned FBI.

She knew she was being unfair, the FBI didn't create cases, they just responded to them. On the other hand, they, and a certain agent in particular, made for very handy targets to blame for lack of sleep, short temper and the work pilling up to be done.

"Hey Sweety, you look like you need this."

Temperance raised her head from it's position flopped on her chair's headrest. She gave Angela a grateful smile for the coffee she was holding out. "Thanks Ange."

"Seriously hon, you look beat. Why don't you go home and get some more rest? I'm sure Dr. Goodman would be right behind me."

"Umm, and these bones are just going to identify themselves? I'm fine Angela, I had a full night's sleep."

"One night out of 21 does not 'fine' make."

She added as she turned to walk back out, "And those bones won't get identified at all if you give yourself a heart attack."

Temperance shook her head with a smile, she counted herself lucky to have Angela's friendship, no matter how demanding it sometimes felt to try to keep up her side.

Not for the first time, she reminded herself why she stayed out of serious relationship with men. That would be a whole other range of demanding.

As it too often did, thoughts of relationships brought Booth to mind, which brought the last few weeks of FBI hell to mind. 6 cases in 21days, Angela had exaggerated somewhat in her estimate, but she certainly hadn't stayed in her house more than four hours at a stretch during that period. Her two trips out of town with Booth to dig up crime scenes had been madness as they simultaneously tried to continue running other cases here in DC. Thank God for the rest of her team. Without their willingness to cooperate with the FBI (thank you Hodgins) and to do some of the legwork she usually did with Booth... well, say what they will, without 'Squints' eyes in the field, cases would take far longer to get all their evidence found.

She started her morning routine of booting the computer, checking mail and the inbox on her desk. 'Did we sleep in the SUV one night??' She frowned as she tried to remember the details around the sudden mental image. She could remember sitting in the back with a case file spread on the floor in front of them, the car parked at a crime scene in the forest in Nebraska in the middle of the night. After spending four hours digging up the bones that were found and sending them back to DC, they were trying to decide what their next step needed to be. Knowing all the while that they also had an open case back home that was going to get cold if they didn't get back.

And then she could remember waking up, slightly stiff but warm and cozy. As her senses started to wake up, she realized the warm pillow was Booth, what she'd thought was a cat purring was actually his light snore, and the reason she was stiff was that his arm was holding her curled against his side as he leaned back against the wall of the SUV with his head dropping on hers.

Neither of them had said a word when he woke as she started to move away. He was as worn down as she was, chasing suspects and information, on his own or with her and then standing over her shoulder and theorizing as she and her team analyzed whatever remains were at the centre of the case. Between her and Angela, they'd managed to insist that Zack and Hodgins go home at reasonable times after the first 3 days of working well into the night, and Angela was always wise enough to know when to quit and give her mind a chance to recharge. She'd tried to send Booth home too, or at least to her couch for some rest, but he'd said flatly that he couldn't sleep any more than she could with the case the way it was.

She could only hope that it was over now. They'd closed their last case yesterday afternoon, it was all in the hands of the lawyers now. And she'd made it through the night without being woken by a tired Booth on her cell. And no emails. She closed her eyes and sighed softly before taking a deep breath, stretching her neck and shoulders and getting up. She had dark age bones to verify.

\---------------------------------------------------

By five o'clock she'd only managed half the work she'd expected to get through and she could feel tiredness trying to scratch her eyes out. By six the building was pitch quiet, everyone gone home, even Angela, though not before trying to chivvy Temperance into leaving. She was starting to feel light-headed and decided she would just finish replying to her emails and call it a day.

By seven, she'd passed over 'the wall' and gotten her second breath. And if she wasn't quite her usual collected self.. there was no one there to notice and convince her that she was as good as high on exhaustion fumes.

The silence was starting to get on her too-sensitive nerves and Temperance checked her drawers to see what music she had. She frowned at the third CD she found, 'Home groove' 'How did that get here??'. Then she remembered bringing her home-made mix for Angela to copy for a date. Her frown cleared and she decided that it was sign from that 'someone up above' Booth was always on about. She hadn't relaxed with some music since.. well, that rap club outing hadn't made it to relaxing, not really.

\------------------------------------------------------

As he closed the car door, Agent Booth frowned suddenly and checked his watch, 'Damn, she's probably already gone home, idiot.' "Then again, if anyone is likely to work late, it's Bones. Might as well go in and check, now that I'm here." He sighed deeply as he mumbled to himself. He didn't even know what day it was 7:30 of. He was getting as bad as the anthropologist.

Before pushing the doors open, he rubbed his hands over his face a couple times to wake up and straightened his shoulders, 'OK, find Bones, tell her the guy pleaded guilty, try to talk her into going to sleep and GET HOME! Right.' Plan in place, he made his way into the darkened building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's ramble : anyone remember the dance scene in The bridges of madison county? I like eastwood, don't get me wrong, but he's not one that I associate with romantic roles. at least not past the kind of implied associations that most movies include for mass appeal. yet, he and meryl managed to.. bring to mind(?), make you feel(?) more sensuality than the best of Dirty dancing (IM humble O). I bet booth could do at least as well. since we got the bar dance, I don't suppose there's even the remotest chance.. ah well, on to my daydreams!


	3. Chapter 3

_For now, even as the song ended, his head turned that little bit,his lips laying a deliberate kiss to her ear as another song started,and all she felt was the warmth of his heavy body, the safety of his wide shoulders supporting her. And the growing arousal, hers and his;his hands now flat against her belly holding her tight against him.'_

 

Arousal warred with exhaustion, but the slower music reluctantly conspired to convince Booth this was the wrong night to make a move on his lady scientist.  He signed softly, cuddling his Bones even closer as they continued to shuffle softly around her office.

'Gazing at people,   
Some hand in hand,   
Just what I’m going thru  
They can understand. '

The Moody Blues, a darkened room and a sexy woman leaning back against him in age-old surrender; Booth's eyes slid shut, 'this is what life's about'.  His head drooped tiredly forward and came to rest against hers; the faint vanilla from her shampoo tempting him to nuzzle in even closer.

Temperance laughed softly at the image of Booth as a cuddly puppy.  Of it's own volition, her hand moved from his neck to trace his cheek, feeling the rarely seen scruff; warm sandpaper.  The faint scratchy sensation faded to nothing as he turned his head and pressed his lips to her fingers; so soft, Temperance turned her head slowly as his lips formed the heartfelt lyrics onto her fingertips.

’cause I love you,   
Yes, I love you,   
Oh, how, I love you.  
Oh, how, I love you.

His eyes never opened as her fingertips guided his unresisting lips to hers.  She felt the last vibration of his voice, then he kissed her back.  Time held no meaning as she turned in his arms and their hands glided over each other; tried to get ever closer, as their lips met, clung, and released to meet again.  Temperance wondered later that an innocent kiss could be so intimate,  that she and Booth *could* have managed to keep it innocent; but at that moment, she just felt. She didn't remember their noses bumping, or that first touch of his body.. only the sense of intimacy, safety, tender care; the sudden certainty that she'd never felt whole before, never been safe.

  
The last song had long since ended when Booth's tiredness overcame the sweet drug of affection he'd surrendered to.  Reluctantly easing out of the kiss, he tilted his head back, the hand buried in Bones' hair bringing her head to rest on his heart as he took a deep slow breath, trying not to sway, faintly afraid his legs would collapse under them both.  He laughed softly, "You make me dizzy, woman."  His soft voice in the silent room woke Temperance from the half drowse his heartbeat had put her in. 

She lifted her head to respond; she was sure his words deserved sarcasm, or at least teasing.  But the effort to think was more than she could accomplish.  Instead, she shook her head at him, unconsciously tilting it slightly.  As she stood looking at his widening smile, she saw her couch beyond him and started moving to it. 

Her arm still holding him brought Booth around and his feet automatically joined hers toward the needed rest.  There was no thought involved when she grabbed the blanket off the arm and Booth pulled her down over him, the blanket draped down her back, her head returning to it's spot over his breastbone as he wrapped his arms around her. 

Through the descending fog of much needed sleep, Temperance felt him kiss her temple and mutter what sounded like 'Sweet dreams'.  She was smiling as they both dropped into the arms of Morpheus.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Booth woke lightly, his body following a lifetime's habit and taking a deeper breath before turning on his side to relieve the muscle stiffness that he was only barely conscious of.  Or he tried to.  The weight on his chest restrained his breath and made him wake completely, a small frown drawing his brows together as he opened his scratchy-feeling eyes.  The auburn hair sprawled on his chest slowly dragged his memory up.  _Bones_.  _Dancing_.  He grinned.  _Kissing_.

For a moment, he basked in that memory.  But the muscle stiffness that had woken him in the first place was still there; and the knowledge that he'd eventually need to face Temperance sobered his slightly manic state of mind.  The frown returned as he started to realize how out of it they'd both been.  He didn't have any regrets for what he'd done, but everything he knew about Bones made any chances of her feeling the same slim at very best.

Nonetheless, they needed to get up, or he at least, would be paralysed come morning.

He took one last breath, freezing this memory alongside the precious few moments he had with Parker.  He wrapped his right arm around Bones, his left not responding, "Come on Sleepy-Bones, on your feet Babe.", he spoke softly as he sat them up with protesting back muscles.  The exhausted woman in his arms gripped his already mussed shirt closer for a moment before she tensed and raised her head.

He smiled at her heavy-lidded eyes as he held in a yawn and brought them both to their feet.  "We need to get to a bed Bones, this one'll kill me by morning."  He kept his voice soft and waited for her to find her death glare and lock him out of her personal life.

Temperance tried to remember if she'd ever been so tired in her life.  His words barely registered past the instinct to rest her head back on it's pillow.  Pillow.  Bed.  Booth.  "Yours is closer."

Booth heard her slurred words and couldn't hold back a brief grin when she followed them with burrowing back into him.  He had to remember this;  a tired Bones was a cuddly, cooperative Bones...  He rolled his eyes as he remembered what it took to get her this tired.  Oh well, spunky Bones made life interesting; most of the time.

Walking slowly out of respect for his tired legs, not to mention the zombie in his arms, he got them both out of the pitch-black museum and safely to his SUV.

\------------------------------------------------------

Bones was fast asleep by the time he made it home and Booth went and opened his front door before returning to the passenger side.  The time concentrating while he drove, combined with the night chill as he got out of the car had him almost feeling human for the time being.  He reckoned as long as she didn't wake up and think she was being abducted, he should be able to carry his guest into the house;  more safely than trying to get her walking. 

  
As he walked through the door with Bones cuddled into his suit jacket again, he laughed at life's ironies and hoped he got a chance to tease her about carrying her over the threshold.

  
The car and house locked up, Booth stood watching Bones sleeping on his bed.  It was intoxicating to pretend they were a couple, home late from an outing, Parker sleeping down the hall, taking his wife's boots and pants off so she could sleep comfortably.  But reality intruded when he hesitated to take her shirt off too.   He might get away with having seen Bones' panties with no more than accepting a beating, but anything else and he'd likely end up in hospital.

As he lay down on his side beside her, he drowsily thought it would have been worth it.

\-----------------------------------------------------

For the second time, Temperance woke to purring in her ear.  She'd almost slipped back to sleep when she realized the backdrop to the purring sounded suspiciously like a heartbeat.  The notion was so odd that she was the rest of the way awake in an instant, her senses all taking stock before she moved.  Warm, far more than usual.  Harder bed.. not bed,  _skin_. Her eyes flew open and she tried to sit up, even as memory of the night before returned.  The scent of warm Booth and faint vanilla. 

The arms locked around her kept her from rising, but her movement woke the man she was using as a pillow.  She idly noticed the light shinning through the heavy curtains, 'Must be late'.  The light made it easy to see the wariness appear on Booth's features as his synapses kicked in.  She settled her chin in her palm, one arm resting on his. bare. chest, "What are you worried about?" 

The words were idle curiosity; she was busy immersing herself in her senses.  For once grateful for Saturdays, she casually debated laying her free hand on his pectorals, or seeing how far he'd jump if she dropped her lips to the dark nub of a nipple.

His brows rose at the calm question in her voice, "What, you don't think I'm ever uncertain?"  There was a slightly dreamy depth to her eyes that could be interpreted as a good sign; but then again, she might just still be overtired..

Temperance frowned at the tension she could feel in his body. "Ever, yes.  I'm just not sure why you are now."

He quirked an eyebrow at her, the confidence in her voice starting to reassure him that she was awake and aware, "At best I figured you'd punch me and make me swear never to bring this up again; at worst, I expected to be sworn at and told to never show my face again.  I never thought to hope you'd be content to be here."

Booth watched Temperance's eyes turn pensive.  She wasn't sure herself why she was so content.  She should be ready to run from this unaccustomed intimacy, should be slamming the doors on her emotions and chasing the far too handsome FBI agent out with enough technical jargon to keep him out.  Yet the flight response was no more than an academic subject in her psyche.  She could remember feeling carefree and happy the night before, soaked in affection and safety.  Sailing on a sea of no cares; hadn't she heard that in a song once?  She looked at the man she'd slept with; hair mussed, bare shoulders and chest, stubbled cheeks.  She grinned. Bedroom eyes.  _She remembered kissing Booth_.  Angela would never believe that that would lead to feeling merely 'content' this morning.

But she was.  She was rested from long, comfortable sleep, was warm and relaxed.  She had the full attention of a devastatingly good-looking man without a shirt on.  And at some point between 'quitting time' Friday and this morning, her subconscious had decided that it would be worth the teasing (from Angela) and aggravation (inevitable with Booth), to spend more time, private time, with this man.  To make the effort to understand him, and let him understand her.  To try this 'living' they kept saying could be wonderful.

Her hand reached up and curved around his cheek. "I like the beard."  Clean and neat Booth was a treat for the eyes and hands, but she was finding rumpled, scrubby Booth an irresistible temptation for the senses.

Accepting for now that it was a good day, Booth's eyes slid closed again as he turned into the light caress. He signed happily, and the extra dose of oxygen brought not only energy, but mischief. Before she could react to his sudden wicked grin, he rolled until she was under him.  "So the next time I need you to take a job for me, I could just show up scruffy, instead of making Goodman order you?"

Temperance watched his cocky grin and tried to decide how to keep him from getting any further out of line.  Cocky Booth could be very adorable, as Angela would say, but he did need reigning in.  And she was fairly sure that was part of the position she was going for in his life.  She pretended to think, "Umm, let me think..  well, *I*'d enjoy the eye chocolate, " she leered at him, "but I wouldn't count on your case getting any attention!"

Booth started laughing and ended up rolling them on their side to avoid crushing her.  "Eye *candy*, Bones."  Still chuckling, he framed her face in his hands and bent until she could breathe his words, "And being chosen over your bony friends, " he touched his lips to hers once, "is an honour I will never let you forget you offered."  This time there was no tiredness to keep the passion from taking over, and his lips returned to hers, open and hungry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song at the beginning is 'Nights in white satin', by the Moody blues. 'Sea of no cares' is a song from Great big sea. Beta readers are always welcome, as are post-posting (?umm) 'readers'. I'm already working on the next couple chapters, the one I want to make NC-17, if my typing fingers would cooperate(!!)

**Author's Note:**

> The song I went with is 'Slow Hands' by the Pointer Sisters. I*know* I heard a more modern version at some point on the radio, though the only one I can find now has that 70s sounds to it.. oh well; good lyrics, good beat and what I'm thinking was playing as he entered the building.. Black velvet, Alannah Miles; slow, sultry, with a beat to get you movin'....


End file.
